Hello, dear followers, it’s wonderful to see you. I hope you checked in at the front desk, because they’ve been trying to make me go to rehab and I’ve finally said “yes, yes, yes”.
rehab, utila style
Okay, okay, there are no padded walls or support groups filled with beer bellies (just middle school black boys pushing each other around in my rolling teacher chair and yelling “Yo, is it ’cause I’m white?” when I shout at them to sit down in their seats), but I am as close to wearing a straight jacket as I have ever been: I have blocked myself from using Amazon.com.
That’s right, folks, the terrible has happened. I had an Amazon relapse.
If you’re not humming an amy winehouse
song right now, you actually have a life
You’re probably wondering how this could possibly happen, me being the epitome of self-control (not unlike Justin Bieber and the contestants on The Biggest Loser), but it has.
It all starts with me forgetting the password to access my Amazon.com Store Card account, leaving me incapable of disconnecting it from my account. One Click purchases are turned off, but I can still put things in my virtual shopping cart and check out the old fashioned way, minus the pimply faced checkout girl and the old refrain of “cash or check”? (That’s right, kids, once upon a time people actually accepted personal checks.)
Now, this is no episode of Jesse Pinkman passed out higher than a kite as Walter White stares at him in utter disgust. It’s more subtle than that, and it starts with the rash guards.
“I need a long sleeve rash guard,” I think, contemplating my poor friend who has had melanoma multiple times (never mind that it wasn’t due to sun exposure–skin cancer is still darn scary!). “I should get a Roxy brand. They’re pretty cheap on Amazon, and I love my Roxy wetsuit.”
Click. Click. Click. This item will arrive on Thursday before 8 pm. (Oh Amazon, your siren song is so delicious.)
If I said this was my butt, would you believe me?
Next comes the jewelry. I make it a point to never attend the Fort Worth stock show lest the ring in my nose lead people to believe that I’m a bull who has busted out of my corral, and I find myself running at full tilt as a Mexican dude on an ATV chases after me, swinging a rope and shouting “andele!” Well, surprise surprise, I do not actually have a septum piercing–it’s just fake body jewelry, the perfect fake body jewelry for SCUBA diving. After all, the fishies can’t get the shiny thing if it’s blocked by your mask. (I would suggest avoiding eyebrow piercings at all costs.) But if I live in Honduras, I will probably lose a few, considering they don’t actually slice through my nose… I’d better buy some backups.
Click. Click. Click. This item will arrive tomorrow by 8 pm. (Oh Amazon, baby, you do me so good.)
And you thought your pre-teen’s black lipstick was bad
Next up are the Teva’s. Maneuvering Utila’s rocky coast isn’t easy in flip flops, and I really need sandals that will keep my from landing on my ass in the sand.
Click. Click. Click. The ugliest shoes ever known to mankind will arrive on Monday before noon. (My precious Amazon, how did I ever survive this middle class suburbanite life before I had you?)
the #1 shoes for little old ladies and tourists
Whoa, whoa, whoa–hold up! Did I seriously just spend a total of $170.00 on Amazon.com in less than two days?
Oh dear God, the addiction is back!
What to do, what to do? This is really only one answer. I open up SelfControl, the browser blocker built for porn and shopping addicts, and add Amazon.com to my blocked websites (along with Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, and VomitYourLifeToEveryone.com).
Now here I am at work, staring at my screen with nowhere to go. My head is pounding. I never get headaches. This has to be withdrawal. I’m pretty sure that I’m beginning to sweat, too. Oh wait, that’s just the condensation dripping down my Big Gulp landing on my lap–but still. Amazon, oh Amazon, where for art thou, Amazon? I want to ride the waves of your orange tinted glory. I want to caress my cursor along the sharp angles of your logo. I want to prostitute myself to my Amazon Store Card, racking up that half a cent to a dollar cash back reward. But I can’t.
end hangovers-keep drinking
The end of the school year can’t come to soon. Utila, I yearn for your blue waters and lousy internet connection.
Not Your Momma's Dream 
If you think Tiva’s are bad you could try Chaco’s. They are still not the most glamorous looking shoe, but they are amazingly comfortable and many people wear them 🙂
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I actually like Teva’s a lot more than Chacos. I tried some Chacos and they were unbelievably heavy on my feet, like rubber tires strapped to me! The Teva’s are comfy and light. I also didn’t like the pattern on the sole of the Chacos. They hurt my feet. Overall I LOVE the Teva’s, I am just not a massive fan of any sandal that engulfs your entire foot in bondage like wrappings. Talk about a foot fetishist’s dream! 😉
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